


And The Day Came

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (No it's not RPF please don't read it that way), Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa Week 2018, F/F, Famous, Sorry Not Sorry, and by kind of I mean REALLY, it gets kind of meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Clexa Week 2018 - Day 6 - FamousClarke and Lexa met as costars on a TV show, until the untimely death of Lexa's character.  But they kept in touch after her departure, and occasionally communicate through items fans give them to sign...





	1. Chapter 1

"Um, hi?"

Lexa quickly set down her water bottle and flashed a smile at the girl standing in front of her, shifting her weight from foot to foot and looking like she might pass out. It still felt strange to have people get so nervous in her presence, like she was some kind of celebrity or something...

... and then she remembered that she _was_ some kind of celebrity. Or something. 

"Hi," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," the girl said. "Um. Really excited to meet you. And nervous. I just... the character you played? She just meant so much to me, and..." 

Lexa didn't have to ask which character. She knew. She was pretty sure that no matter how many other roles she took in her life, that one would be the one that forever defined her. That would be the one that would keep coming up, the one that fans would never let go of. There was a tiny piece of her that wished that wasn't – wouldn't be – the case, but then she considered the impact that role had had on her own life, and, well...

"It's nice to meet you too," Lexa said when the girl's words stumbled to a halt. "Did you have something you wanted me to sign?"

"Oh, right!" The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of metal, a replica of the dog tags that her character had worn that had been passed on to her lover after her death, which had turned out to have some kind of microchip critical to preventing the end of the world embedded in them. "Clarke already signed it," she said. "She said she didn't leave room for you." 

Lexa tried to keep from smiling too much. "Oh, I'll find room," she said. She picked up a marker and squeezed her signature onto the metal, overlapping Clarke's signature slightly. She then quickly added devil horns to the C in Clarke's name. "That will teach her," she joked. 

"Thank you," the girl said, looking at it for a moment, then carefully tucking it away. "If I ever see her again, I'll show her."

"Awesome," Lexa said. "I hope you have a great rest of your con." 

"Thanks," the girl said. "You too!"

* * *

"I miss you," they said, their voices overlapping. It was what they said instead of hello more often than not, because it was true. Lexa knew that it was worth it, that Clarke was worth it, that the moments they had where they actually got to be together were worth the ache of loneliness that was her constant companion the rest of the time. 

Clarke laughed softly. "What are you up to?" she asked, her voice soft and bright at once, which meant she'd either had a good day on set or she'd actually had the day off. Lexa wasn't sure which; she had a hard enough time keeping track of her own shooting schedule without trying to memorize Clarke's, too. 

"Just getting ready for bed," she said. 

"Bed? It's barely—" Clarke stopped. "Oh right. Time zones." Lexa thought she heard her moving, and then the soft rustle and thump as she flopped down on a couch or a bed or something. She could Facetime her and find out, but Clarke had called, so there was probably a reason for it. 

"It's early even here," Lexa admitted. "It's just exhausting." She put on a good show, but the truth was she was mostly an introvert, and spending a lot of time around other people eventually wore her out, and she needed to get away to recharge. 

"I know," Clarke said gently. "I wish I could be there to help you relax."

Lexa couldn't help the smile that teased her lips. "Oh yeah? How would you do that?"

"Wellllll..." Clarke drawled, but then she stopped. "Hold on." Lexa heard a noise as Clarke set the phone down, then voices in the background before she picked back up again. "Sorry," she said. "I was bad and ordered pizza. I'm sure I'll regret it when I have to go to the gym tomorrow." 

"You _are_ bad," Lexa said, remembering the girl at the signing. 

"What did I do?" Clarke asked, then swore. "Sorry," she muttered. "I—"

"Took a bite of the pizza while it was still too hot to eat and burned the roof of your mouth on the cheese," Lexa finished for her. 

"It's like you know me," Clarke said with a fake gasp.

"It's like you do it every time," Lexa replied. 

"Rude," Clarke said. "I mean true, but rude. Why am I bad?"

"Because you didn't leave any room for me to sign," Lexa said. "A girl had you sign a dog tag and you took up the whole thing. But I made room for myself, so there."

Clarke laughed. "I remember that!" she said. "I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"And I would say I'm sorry for the devil's horns I put on your name, but I'm not," Lexa countered. 

Clarke laughed again, and it was the best sound in the world. Lexa wished she could wrap herself up in that sound, like a big fuzzy blanket that always kept her exactly the right temperature. She wished...

"I wish you were here," she said after a moment. 

"I wish I was too," Clarke said. "Or that you were here." More rustling, and Lexa imagined Clarke making herself comfortable on the couch in her apartment, maybe draping a blanket over herself, maybe bringing it to her cheek and smelling it to see if it retained any trace of the scent of Lexa's shampoo from the last time she'd been there. It had only been two weeks ago, but it felt like much longer. 

Her chest tightened and she rubbed at her sternum as if that would somehow ease the stab of loneliness that lanced through her. "I should go," she said. "I—"

"Please don't," Clarke whispered. "We don't even have to talk. Just... please don't go yet."

"Okay," Lexa agreed, curling up under the covers of her hotel bed that was too big for one person, the sheets cool and sterile and somehow both soft and stiff from too many washings. They were quiet for a long time, listening to each other breathe and chew, pretending that companionable silence was possible when you were separated from your companion by time and distance that wasn't insurmountable but sure as hell felt like it when they both had obligations that they needed to fulfill. 

Finally Clarke sighed. "Do you ever... regret this?" she asked. 

"No," Lexa said, and it was mostly true. Almost entirely true. She regretted the fact that they saw each other so rarely, and when they did they had to be so careful about who saw them together, and what they saw. She didn't regret the fact that an on-screen romance had bled into their off-screen feelings. She didn't regret the leap of faith she'd taken when, the day that they'd found out that her character was being killed off and their time as co-workers was going to end sooner rather than later, she'd asked Clarke to come over. She didn't regret that after stumbling through half a dozen false starts at trying to talk about her stupid feelings, she'd given up and just kissed her. And she really didn't regret (and was forever grateful) that Clarke hadn't told her she was being unprofessional, that she hadn't brushed it off as Lexa confusing fantasy for reality, that she'd _kissed her back_ , and kept kissing her until it felt like nothing would ever feel wrong again. 

"I hate that it's a secret, though," she admitted after a moment. A few of the people closest to them knew; the friends that they trusted to keep their mouths shut. 

"Does it have to be?" Clarke asked. "We could just..." 

But the thought trailed off, because could they just...? If they did, their relationship wouldn't be theirs anymore. Not entirely. It would belong to everyone, and they would be on display even more than they already were, and they would be looked up to, maybe, more than they already were, and that was a double-edged sword. 

And it got exhausting, the steady drip of blood from wounds that never quite healed. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. "I wish it could be simple. I wish we could just be ourselves, just for a while. Just Clarke and Lexa. Just two girls..."

"... in love," Clarke finished for her. "I do love you, you know."

"I know," Lexa said, and she did. Sometimes it felt like the only thing that she was sure of. 

"We're done filming in a few weeks," Clarke said. "We should go somewhere. Get away."

"I would have to check my calendar," Lexa said, unable to hold back the bitter note in her voice. "There's cons, and publicity, and..." She dashed the tears from her eyes before Clarke could see them... except she couldn't see them, and that just made them fall faster, even as Lexa struggled to keep the emotion from her voice.

"It doesn't have to be a long trip," Clarke said. "A weekend, even. Anything."

"When did our lives become begging for scraps of what so many people take for granted?" Lexa asked. "When did our lives stop being ours to live?"

Clarke didn't answer. She didn't need to. They both knew, and they knew that it was a choice that they'd both made, and they'd known that it would be hard, the long-distance thing and the public eye thing and the being two girls thing, but Lexa had had no idea just how hard it would be to love someone as much as she loved what she did, more maybe, and being unwilling to give up either one, and worrying all the time that one would suffer because of the other, and—

"I have a few days," she said. "After this, I have a few days. I can—"

"I don't," Clarke said. "There's shooting, and then I've got a con, and—"

"It's fine," Lexa said. "We'll figure it out." She forced herself to smile. "We always do."

The silence between them was heavy and crowded with all of the reasons why, in the end, this would never work. It choked her, made it so that anything she thought of saying never made it past her lips. 

"I'm going to let you go," Clarke said. "Sleep," she amended a second later. "I'm going to let you sleep. I'm not going to let you go. Not unless you tell me I have to."

"Don't," Lexa said. "Please don't. Let go. But yes, I should sleep."

"Okay," Clarke said. "Dream of me."

"I will," Lexa said, and hoped it was true. "Meet me there."

"Always," Clarke said. 

"Good night, my heart," Lexa whispered.

"Good night, babe," Clarke whispered back, and then the line went quiet, and then dead.

Lexa curled up around one of the spare pillows on the bed, burying her face into it so that if there was anyone next door, and if the walls were thin, they wouldn't hear her cry.

* * *

A month of phone calls and FaceTimes later, they still hadn't seen each other, and Lexa felt like she was stretched to her breaking point. It wasn't that she hated doing press... but she kind of hated doing press. The interviews where she got asked the same questions over and over again. The interviewers who were far too often skeevy older men who forgot where her eyes were... but she could deal with that. She didn't have a choice. When the same creepy old man comments came from one of her costars, though, and everyone just kind of laughed it off...

She smiled along and bit her tongue until it bled and contemplated the many ways that she would like to eviscerate him, metaphorically and otherwise. 

Afterward, no one said anything to him about it, and no one said anything to her, either, and her blood boiled as she made her way to the tables that had been set up for their signing. She placed herself as far away from him as possible (what he was even doing on the press tour, she didn't know, considering that his character was fucking dead, and good riddance) and picked up a marker, clenching it until her knuckles ached to try and hide their shaking. 

Faces blurred, and she smiled and made small talk and signed whatever was set in front of her, trying not to count the seconds until it was over and she got to maybe grab a few minutes to herself. "Hi," she said, pasting on a smile as the next person approached. 

"Hi," the young woman said. "I'm so glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you. I... I can't even tell you how much it meant to me, to see a character on screen that I could really relate to and connect with, this amazing badass woman with this huge heart who just cared _so much_ about everything, and..." She stopped, grimaced. "I'm sure you've heard it all before. You're probably sick of hearing it."

"No," Lexa said. "I'm glad that she meant some – meant so much to you. She meant a lot to me, too, and it was an honor to get to bring her to life."

"It's too bad that—" The woman stopped again. "Anyway, I don't want to hold things up, but, well... I saw the dog tags that someone posted that Clarke had signed, and then you signed them, and I thought it was funny, and I was at a con a couple of weeks ago and I got to meet Clarke, and I had her sign something, and I told her that I was seeing you and asked if she wanted to put something that would be like a message to you." She smiled and pulled an art book out of a folder, flipping to a piece of fanart of their two characters. Not anything risqué, thankfully, just a sweet, loving picture of them curled in each other's arms. Beside it, Clarke had signed, 'I'll meet you there.' 

Lexa sucked in a breath through her nose, blinking hard against the sudden stinging of her eyes. "Did you want me to sign this page, too?" she asked. 

"If you want to," the woman said. "Or wherever..."

Lexa signed, 'All my heart,' and then her name, and handed it back, and wondered if the fan would ever understand what she held. 

That night, she checked their press schedule, which thankfully ended in a couple of days and then Clarke's schedule, and booked a flight. She didn't tell Clarke, she just booked it, packing light so she didn't have to worry about dealing with baggage claim or anything else as she rushed through the airports, praying for no delays or missed connections.

When she arrived at the hotel where Clarke was staying for yet another convention ('tis the season, she guessed) she sent her a text.

 **Lexa:** Where are you?

 **Clarke:** Having some lunch, why? 

**Lexa:** Where?

Then she spotted her through the window of one of the hotel restaurants, and her heart started to beat extra hard. 

**Lexa:** Never mind.

 **Clarke:** ... where are YOU?

 **Lexa:** Look up.

Clarke looked up, and her jaw dropped, and she stood up, and Lexa's bag dropped, and they were in each other's arms, clinging, before either of them could think about it or second guess it. Lexa turned her face into the side of Clarke's neck, brushing her lips against the skin there, and Clarke muffled the sound she made in Lexa's shoulder. 

"You're here," she said when they finally pulled apart. "I can't believe you're here."

"I wanted to see you, and I got tired of trying to find time, so I made time."

"Sit," Clarke said. "I don't have long and I'm starving. Are you hungry?" She motioned for the server to come over, and before Lexa could even pick up the menu to look, Clarke had ordered for her, which might have annoyed her under other circumstances, but in the moment it felt good that Clarke knew her well enough to feel confident in ordering for her. 

"I can't believe you're here," Clarke said again. She reached across the table, putting her hand over Lexa's, and then they both looked down at it, and up at each other, and it was like they were trying figure out which of them was going to say what they thought had to be said, or do what they thought needed to be done. 

It wasn't going to be Lexa. Not this time. She wasn't going to pull away, say that they needed to be careful. She was tired of being careful. She was tired of pulling away when all she wanted was to get closer, to let herself have just this one thing that would be hers, that no one could take from her, that no one could touch.

But wasn't that why they had to keep it a secret? 

Her stomach roiled and she took in a slow, shaky breath. She turned her hand slightly, and Clarke took that as a sign and started to pull away, but Lexa caught her fingers, shook her head slightly. "I don't know how to do this," she said. "I never have before. But..." She bit her lip. "There's a quote I read once... more than once... on one of those inspirational cards with the watercolor flowers or whatever. Anais Nin. 'And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.' That's... that's where I am. It hurts too much to keep going like this."

Clarke's expression was... well, it wasn't. Her face was a mask, but she couldn't hide what was in her eyes, those eyes the color of the sky on the best, clearest days. Suspicion, and worry, and just the tiniest flicker of hope. "So what do we do?" she asked. "If we can't keep going like this."

"We figure out another way," Lexa said. "We figure out what works for us. What makes _us_ happy. Not what we think we're supposed to do, or that we should do. Not what makes everyone else happy." She paused as her food was set in front of her, smiling and nodding her thanks to the server, who was either oblivious or discreet, or just had no idea who they were, or didn't care, or maybe would be Tweeting this as soon as their back was turned... before turning her attention back to Clarke. "The lives that we lead, the fact that we have the chance to play pretend for a living, to... to be other people, have these experiences that most people will never get to... I know that we're lucky. I know that it's a privilege. After everything that happened, I realized that it's a responsibility, too. That what we do can mean something. _Should_ mean something. And I learned that life is fragile. That nothing is guaranteed, and that we have to grab hold of life and not let go, and, and live it as best we can, and that..." She swallowed. "I don't want to feel like I'm playing a character every day of my life. I want to be able to be Lexa. To _really_ be Lexa, who is so stupidly in love with her former costar, her best friend, that she finds herself grinning like an idiot at nothing at all every time she thinks about her. I want to be stupidly in love with you without acting like I'm ashamed of it. Because I'm not. At first it felt okay to keep it private. It was new. It was fragile. We were still figuring things out. Now it feels like..."

"... like I can't breathe," Clarke said. "Like I'm biting my tongue all the time. People talk about their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, and sometimes... not all the time, but sometimes... they'll give me this look like, 'You'll understand someday,' and I want to tell them no, not someday, today! I know what it's like to be in love. I know what it's like to want to build a life, a future with someone. I know what it's like to be away from the person who makes you happier than anyone or anything else, to miss them every minute of every day, but at least missing them reminds you how lucky you are to have them. And it feels like eventually people are going to find out. Eventually, somehow, it's going to leak. Will they understand that sometimes you just want to keep your private life private? Or will they think we're ashamed? And I think, if it's going to get out anyway, wouldn't it be better to control the when and the how?"

"Yes," Lexa said. "Exactly." 

"So... is that what we're figuring out?" Clarke asked. "The when and the how?"

"Yes," Lexa said again. 

"Okay," Clarke said, a smile creeping across her face, her eyes warming until they practically glowed. "That's... yes." She looked down at their still-joined hands and laughed. "But first I need to figure out whether it's possible to eat one-handed, because I really _am_ hungry."

Lexa brushed her thumb over Clarke's knuckles and finally let her go. "I won't make you try," she said, picking up her fork to dig into her own lunch. 

After they'd paid the check, Clarke handed Lexa her room key. "Unless you want to come with me?"

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," she said. "I don't want to—" Lexa stopped herself, realizing that these were patterns that they would have to learn how to break, if they really were going to let themselves breathe, and let their relationship out into the light. "Why don't I take my stuff up to the room, and I'll meet you after?"

Clarke nodded, and then pushed herself up slightly to brush her lips against Lexa's cheek. "See you in a little bit," she said. 

Lexa rode the elevator up to Clarke's room and dropped off her bag, then took a minute to just collect herself. She had no idea if they were doing the right thing. She didn't think there was really any way of knowing if it was the right thing or not until it was too late to pull back from it if it turned out they were wrong. The possible consequences were not insignificant, not just personally but career-wise. She probably ought to talk to her agent, her publicist, _someone_ before they did anything.

But she was so tired of asking for permission to be happy. She was so tired of hiding.

She changed into something a little nicer than the leggings and baggy sweater that she'd flown in and headed down to the convention area, hoping that she could manage to do so without causing too much of a stir. She got in line to get herself a pass, not wanting to risk there being a scene if she acted like anything other than a regular con-goer. 

The woman behind the counter glanced up at her, only half paying attention as she handed her a bag of goodies and a lanyard with her badge... and then her head snapped up as she realized who she was looking at. Lexa flashed her a smile and said thank you and moved on before it could become a thing, but she knew that word of her presence would spread quickly. She had to find Clarke. 

Thankfully, she caught her walking by, being guided toward a room where she would have a meet and greet with the fans who had been willing to shell out for the privilege. The staff person walking with her looked for a second like she might try to shoo her away, then Clarke caught her before she could try. "Hey babe," she said, which was unremarkable because she called lots of people 'babe'. "Walk with me."

The staff member looked like she might argue; Lexa didn't have the right pass, after all, but decided against it when Clarke slid her arm through Lexa's, pulling her along at her side. "Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't think about this part. We'll get it sorted out after."

"It's fine," Lexa said. "I can blend."

Clarke snorted. "Like oil and water can blend," she said. 

"Okay, fine," Lexa said. "I'll just sit quietly in a corner and act like I don't exist."

"Was that a Harry Potter reference?" Clarke asked. 

"More of an allusion," Lexa said, "but yes."

"Nerd."

"You love it."

"I do," Clarke said. 

They went into the currently empty room, and Lexa found a place where she would be out of the way – which was to say, unseen – while Clarke did her thing. She settled in, not sure how long the gathering lasted, but it wasn't as if she had anything better to do. She had come to be with Clarke, and this was what that entailed right now. 

The fans came in, and for a few minutes it was fairly quiet, and Clarke thanked them for coming and said how happy she was to meet them, and once everyone had settled in, the questions started. Questions they had heard and answered before, mostly, but what could you do? 

"What are your favorite scenes to do?" one fan asked. "And what are your least favorite?"

"My favorite scenes are any scenes where I can really get into the emotion of it," Clarke said. "It's exhausting, but at the same time, it's amazing when you get that feeling like you're really in the character, like you stop being yourself and you really _become_ the character. You feel what they feel, and it stops feeling like acting... and you get startled when you reach the end of the scene, and you find yourself looking for the next words in your own head, and then they call cut and you're like, 'Wait, what? Who are all these people?'" She laughed. "My least favorite I guess are the opposite. The ones where you just cannot wrap your head around what the character is doing, or why they're doing it, where you can't feel what they feel because it just seems wrong. You can't get out of your own head, and you're aware the entire time that you're capital-A acting. That this is work." 

"Do you have an example?" someone asked. Maybe the same fan who had originally asked the question, or maybe a different one, Lexa couldn't tell.

Clarke paused. "I probably shouldn't talk about my least favorite ones," she said. "I might get myself in trouble." Lexa imagined her smiling and winking conspiratorially. "As far as favorites, though... I would say pretty much any scene that I did with Lexa, but especially the ones where it was just the two of us, our characters just getting to be themselves and not who everyone expected them to be. It was so easy to just... fall into that." 

Lexa's breath caught, and she leaned forward, trying to hear better.

"Is it true that that relationship wasn't originally in the scripts?" one of the fans asked. "That it happened because of the chemistry between you two?"

"Yes," Clarke said. "I don't know what their intention was for the relationship originally. I assume just a partnership and probably a friendship. I'm pretty sure they were always meant to have a kind of meeting-of-the-minds, mutual understanding, kindred spirit kind of thing going on that would hopefully bring the two groups together. But it turned into more than that."

 _So much more,_ Lexa thought. 

"What was your reaction when you read the script where you realized that it was going to be more than that?"

"I was excited," Clarke said. "It felt really right, like everything had been building to that, even if we hadn't realized it. And honestly, we hadn't realized it. At least I hadn't. Maybe Lexa was already playing like things were going that way, I don't know, but..." 

_Lexa wasn't playing anything,_ Lexa thought. _Lexa was falling in love with her scene partner and couldn't manage to keep that off her face and out of her eyes._

"As soon as I read it, it was like, 'Oh hell yes.' It just made sense. They were both so alone, even surrounded by people, so lonely, so in need of someone to connect to, and who else was ever going to understand? So yeah, I was really excited about it."

"What was your reaction when you found out that Lexa's character was going to die?"

There was a pause. A long one. "It hurt," Clarke finally said. "I read the scene, and then I read it again, and then a third time. Every time, I knew it was going to end up the same, and every time, I still had this tiny pang of hope that somehow I had misread it. I knew that they were going to have to find a way to get her off-screen for a while, but..." Another pause. "That day – the day we filmed that scene – was probably the worst day I've ever had on set. On any set. Love scenes are weird and awkward, but we were comfortable enough with each other that we could just laugh about it and do what needed to be done. Which was, y'know, each other." A laugh, probably a wink, and the fans joined in. "But that scene..." 

Lexa's stomach clenched, and she gripped her knees, fighting the urge to get up and go to her, because yes, that scene, that day... It had been brutal, and by the end of it, they had both been exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. They'd left set drained and hidden out in Lexa's hotel room and just clung to each other, trying to shake the feeling that something really had died that day. 

"Obviously I knew that she was fine. That Lexa was fine. But it was too easy to access those emotions, to imagine what it would feel like to lose her, the desperation to save her..." Clarke sighed, probably shook her head. 

"Did you have any idea what the reaction was going to be like when it aired?"

"I knew that people weren't going to be happy," Clarke said. "I knew that people were going to be upset. I don't think anyone knew the extent of it, the depth of the feelings that people would have. I didn't realize that people would feel that loss just as much as I had. Maybe more, because at least I still had Lexa after. She wasn't gone for me the way her character was gone for you. Long distance sucks, but we've made it work."

There was a lull, and Lexa tried to imagine the fans faces as they tried to figure out if they'd really just heard what they thought they'd heard. She wasn't sure Clarke even realized what she'd said. 

"So you two are still friends?" someone finally asked.

"Oh yeah," Clarke said. "Of course. I think it's almost impossible to play that kind of relationship with someone and have it ring true – obviously you can play a romantic relationship with someone that you don't really feel anything for, and you can even sell it, but it's not the same – and not end up friends after." 

Lexa pulled out her phone and sent Clarke a text: It's okay. 

She didn't know if Clarke would see it; it would be kind of rude to pull out her phone in the middle of a meet and greet, but maybe she would at least glance at it. Maybe she would see. 

Her answer came a second later. "Especially when you realize in the course of shooting that the chemistry isn't just between the characters. That what the writers are picking up on isn't just acting... or maybe isn't acting at all." Lexa imagined her slightly sheepish smile. 

"So... then... the relationship between your characters...?"

"Is Lexa and I using someone else's words to express our own feelings," Clarke said. "We've kept it private, mostly, but it's started to feel like a cage, so we decided it was time to start to let people in. Not that we want everyone butting into our personal lives, but I guess we hope that if we share some things, people will respect our privacy when it comes to the things that we want to keep to ourselves."

Lexa's heart swelled, proud of Clarke for finding a way to put things out there that would still protect them, as much as they could be protected. If these fans cared about them as much as they cared about their characters, if this all meant so much to them, then they would respect their wishes, and hopefully get other fans to do the same. Maybe it wouldn't work, but maybe it would. 

After a few more questions – and congratulations – the meet and greet was over and the fans were ushered out. Clarke came around the little curtain and Lexa caught her as she practically fell into her arms, holding her tight, her lips brushing against her hair. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"For what?" Clarke asked, not lifting her head from Lexa's shoulder. 

"For doing that. For saying that."

"You said it was okay," Clarke said. 

"I know. I just don't know if I could have done it myself."

"You could have," Clarke said, "if you had to."

Lexa didn't argue with her. She just tipped her head down, nudging Clarke until she lifted her face and their lips met, just for a moment, a kiss that was barely a kiss, but it was enough to fortify them both. 

"I think I have a panel in a little bit," Clarke said. "I guess we'll find out how quickly gossip spreads." She smiled wryly. 

"I guess we will," Lexa said. "Do you want me to come?" 

Clarke smirked. "That's going to have to wait until later," she said.

Lexa shot her a quelling look. "That's not what I meant."

"But it's what you said."

"You're impossible," Lexa said, kissing her again with a little more heat. 

Clarke melted into it for a moment, but then they heard someone else moving in the room and they pulled apart, Clarke extricating herself from Lexa's arms. "I have to go."

"I'll come with you," Lexa said.

"I already told you that has to wait until later," Clarke teased.

"Pervert." 

"And you love it."

"I love _you_ ," Lexa said.

"I love you too," Clarke replied. They came out of their hiding place to find a volunteer patiently waiting by the doors. 

Lexa looked at Clarke, and Clarke looked back at her. Their hands brushed, and then their fingers intertwined. Lexa squeezed Clarke's hand and Clarke squeezed back, and then they stepped through the door to face whatever the future held, together.


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa collapsed onto Clarke's bed and dragged a pillow over her head, pressing it down to muffle the world for a second. Word had spread more quickly than either of them had anticipated, and her phone had immediately blown up with notifications from every social media platform she was on, until she'd finally gone into her settings and turned them all off. Even then, her phone had been buzzing constantly, messages pouring in from friends and coworkers and her team, and many of them were congratulatory, a few slightly accusing although maybe not meant to be ( _Why didn't you tell me?!_ ) and finally an onslaught of reprimands ( _WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!) that had led to her turning off her phone completely._

She felt the bed shift, rocking her first one way, then the other, as Clarke knelt with one knee on either side of her hips. She leaned over and pried the pillow away. "Don't do it," she said. "You have so much to live for." Her tone was teasing, her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes asked the question that she was maybe afraid to actually speak: _Are you okay?_

Lexa let her hands fall on Clarke's thighs, running them up to her hips and down again, thumbs dragging along next to her inseam. She felt Clarke rock her hips, her eyes flickering closed for a second, and when they opened again the question was still there but was overlaid with something more primal. She bit her lip as Lexa's fingers edged up under the hem of her shirt, brushing against bare skin, and let out a soft, low moan. "I missed you," Lexa whispered. 

"I missed you too," Clarke murmured back. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Lexa's, gentle at first and then more insistent, and Lexa surrendered to it, twining her arms around her Clarke's back, working loose the hooks of her bra until it came undone. Clarke's groan wasn't only of arousal at that, and Lexa almost laughed. They'd seen something once, a silly pin or bumper sticker or something that said, 'Home is Where the Bra is Off' and it was something that Clarke had very much taken to heart. Lexa sure as hell wasn't about to complain. She rucked up the back of Clarke's t-shirt until she finally took the hint and broke the kiss long enough for Lexa to pull it off, dropping it, along with the bra, off the edge of the bed before pulling Clarke down again. 

"How long has it been?" Clarke asked, deft fingers working open the button of Lexa's jeans and sliding down her zipper, peeling the material down her hips. 

"Too long," Lexa said. She probably could have told Clarke how long, down to the minute, if she hadn't been distracted by the press of her palm against Lexa's belly, below her belly button and sliding lower, past the elastic of her panties and through the tangle of dark curls, her hips canting towards her as the tip of Clarke's middle finger glided over and around Lexa's clit, sending a shiver up her spine and driving the air from her lungs in a shuddering exhale. 

"Clarke," she gasped. "God!" 

"Careful," Clarke said, "you might give me a big head."

"I can't even tell if you mean that as a euphemism," Lexa groaned, her hips rolling with Clarke's slow strokes, trying to get more: pressure, friction, speed... something. _Anything._

"Only if you want it to be," Clarke said. 

"I want..." Lexa swallowed, unable to actually articulate it, maybe because she was a little embarrassed to say it out loud even though there was no reason to be, or maybe just because it was hard to verbalize anything at all when someone's hand was between your legs, coaxing you slowly but steadily towards a complete unraveling. "Clarke... _please_."

"Since you asked so nicely..." Clarke slid off of her, sprawling at her side and wrapping her free arm around her shoulders to pull her into an almost-but-not-quite rough kiss, her teeth raking Lexa's lower lip before she dove in again, the motion of her tongue against Lexa's mimicking what her hand was doing, no longer asking for but demanding the attention of all of Lexa's nerves, pleasure sparking and fizzing in places that Clarke wasn't even touching as Lexa tripped past not quite to almost to the edge of _oh fuck_ and over, and she was falling, falling for seconds or hours, she didn't know, until she landed back in Clarke's arms, opening her eyes to look at the woman she loved, who was smiling just a little smugly at her. "You're right," Clarke said. "It's been too long. I've missed that look."

Lexa choked on a laugh, nuzzling her face into Clarke's neck, knowing that she was ticklish there and the brush of her breath and the vibrations of her laughter would make Clarke squirm... and if Clarke got to tease her, why shouldn't she get to do the same? She felt Clarke try to duck her chin, to keep Lexa away from the sensitive skin, but it was too late, and her weak protests evaporated as Lexa pressed a line of kisses across her clavicle, far enough away from the danger zone that Clarke wasn't laughing anymore, and her breathing stopped completely for a second when Lexa's rolled on top of her, hands tracing up her sides and coming up to cup Clarke's breasts as she transitioned from collarbone to sternum. She could feel the pounding of Clarke's heart, her blood pulsing beneath her skin, and she pressed her ear to her chest for a second, listening to the steady but quickening rhythm before moving on. 

She brushed her lips over one of Clarke's nipples and felt the skin pucker and pebble, bringing it to a stiff peak that she traced over and around with her tongue, sucking the skin into her mouth before letting go and doing the same to the other side. Clarke arched beneath her like she was offering herself, and who was Lexa to refuse? She continued to kiss and lick and suck over her chest and down her belly, lower and lower but not straying beyond the waistband of her jeans until Clarke made a sound that was very nearly a growl, threatening to turn mutinous if she didn't get some relief soon. 

Lexa popped the button and slid down the zipper, hooking her fingers under the waistband of jeans and underwear together and easing them down Clarke's hips and thighs and off, discarding them and working her way back up quickly. She hooked her arms around Clarke's legs and finally pressed her mouth between them, the tip of her tongue tracing up through the slick heat of her, the taste of her flooding her mouth as she laved over her clit, making her moan and arch, her legs falling open wider. 

Lexa didn't tease her or try to draw it out; she'd done enough of that already. She worked her lips and tongue over Clarke in the ways she'd learned that Clarke liked best, bringing her steadily and swiftly to her peak and then pulling away so as not to overstimulate her, nuzzling against the soft curve of her belly until she stopped trembling and her breathing started to steady. 

Clarke reached to draw her up into her arms, making a noise that was a mix of frustration and disgust when it registered that Lexa was still mostly dressed. "Off," she grumbled, tugging at Lexa's shirt. "Now." 

Lexa laughed softly and pulled away long enough to strip out of her shirt and jeans, then stretched out against Clarke, arms and legs twining around each other as they settled into a long, slow kiss. "I love you," she whispered. "Whatever happens... know that I love you."

Clarke's eyes dragged open and lines formed between her brows. "What do you mean, whatever happens?" she asked. 

"We don't know how this is going to go," Lexa said. "People... there will be people who are happy for us. We know that. We also know that there will be people who won't be happy, just like they weren't happy with the relationship on the show."

"We aren't our characters," Clarke said. "And what we do in our personal lives is none of their business."

"We just made it their business," Lexa pointed out, "and we already know that some people blur the line between fantasy and reality a little too much, and we've just made it blurrier."

Clarke shook her head. "It's not as if we're the first people to have had on-screen chemistry turn into something off-screen," she said. "We're not the first costars to end up in a relationship." 

"No, we're not," Lexa agreed. "And yet."

"And yet." Clarke sighed. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't even want to think about it. Can't we just have one night that's ours?"

Lexa forced a smile. _Probably not,_ she thought. _Our lives aren't our own._ With it came a pang of what wasn't quite loneliness, but something like it, she guessed. She wasn't sure that there was a name for the feeling you got when you realized that no matter how much you wanted it, you probably couldn't have it all. That the odds were against a happy ending to this story. Melancholy, maybe... but that seemed too gentle. 

"Lexa," Clarke whispered, "don't go there. Stay here with me. That's what you came for, isn't it?"

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Yes," she whispered. "You're what I came for."

"Then let's just be here together," Clarke said. "I know... I know it's all waiting for us as soon as we leave this room, but right now it can't touch us. Right now... let's just be Clarke and Lexa. Let's just be two girls in love."

Lexa pressed her face into the curve of Clarke's neck, not trying to make her squirm this time, just needing to hide, taking a few seconds to compose herself before she nodded slowly, and let Clarke tip up her face to kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her until everything outside of this room, this bed, really did drift away, a distant worry that could be dealt with later, tomorrow, or never at all, where everything was fine, everything was perfect as long as they were together...

* * *

She woke up to Clarke's lips against hers, drawing her out of blissful blankness and into a world that was bright and brilliant and beautiful, the sun creeping past the thick curtains to frame Clarke's hair like a halo as her hands slid slow over her body, as they shifted and slid against each other, fingers sure of their destination and their goal, seeking it together, breathing ragged gasps against each other's cheeks as they clung, pulses pounding in time, reaching the end not quite at the same time but close, collapsing against each other sweaty and spent. 

"If only that was every morning," Clarke said, teasing her fingers along Lexa's spine, down to her tailbone and back up again, making Lexa's nerves twitch. "If only..."

A knock on the door shattered the moment, and they glanced frantically around, both reaching for their phones, but the screens were blank, turned off to shut out the noise of reality. Lexa finally noticed the clock that had been relegated to the bottom shelf of the nightstand. Not quite 8 am, which under any other circumstances wouldn't have felt that early, but yesterday had been a long day, and although her sleep the night before had been deep and dreamless when she'd gotten it, it had been broken up by one or the other of them waking, and then waking the other, trying (and failing, it would seem) to get their fill of each other after weeks – nearly months – apart. 

"Who the fuck...?" Clarke grumbled, but eased herself out of bed and found panties and an oversized t-shirt to slip on to go answer the door. It was her room, after all. Lexa snagged her own shirt, but hunkered down under the covers because there wasn't time to do more. 

There was a hushed conference at the door before Clarke stepped aside and let the man – Lexa wasn't sure of his name, but thought it might be Kane – in. She pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter. "Ah," he said when he saw her. "That explains why your phone is off, and why we have a bit of a... situation brewing." 

"What kind of situation?" Clarke asked. 

"A man showed up this morning looking for Lexa," he said. "He insists that she's here and that he needs to speak to her immediately."

Clarke looked at Lexa. "Who would know you're here?" she asked. 

"No one," Lexa said. "I didn't tell anyone I was coming." She looked at the man, who she assumed was part of Clarke's team or she wouldn't have let him into the room. "Did he give a name?"

"Titus," he said. "He said his name was Titus."

Lexa's insides turned to ice. Clarke looked at her and she shook her head slightly. No, this was not a good thing. This was potentially a very bad thing, and it wasn't something that Lexa wanted to deal with right now. "Did you tell him I'm here?" she asked.

"No," the man said. "I didn't know for sure until I came up here that you were." He shot Clarke a look that pretty clearly said, 'You should have told me.' She just shrugged back at him. "I'll do what I can to hold him off, but he seems pretty determined to get to you." 

"He would be," Lexa said. "He's been my manager since I was a kid, and after yesterday..." She resisted the urge to fidget, to pull her legs up to her chest and hug them, to engage in any kind of behavior that might betray just how scared she was about what was going to happen when she saw him. She shouldn't be scared. She wasn't a child anymore; he didn't have the same power over her that he once had. But some reactions were ingrained, and fearing his wrath was one of them. 

"Was there anything else, Marcus?" Clarke asked. 

Marcus. Right. Marcus Kane. He traveled with Clarke sometimes as sort of a road manager, handler, whatever you wanted to call him. Not a bodyguard, but he probably would do that too if he had to. "You have a breakfast meet and greet at nine," he said. "You should probably start getting ready." He looked at Lexa. "I can hold Titus off until then, probably," he said. "If you really don't want to deal with him, I suggest finding a way to disappear before then."

Lexa nodded. "Thank you." 

"I'll be back at about ten of," he told Clarke. 

"Thank you," she said, and then opened the door to let him out, shutting it and making sure it was locked before coming back to bed. "Do you need to go?" she asked softly, finding Lexa's hand and taking it. 

"No," Lexa said. "I'm not running away. I just... I don't know what he wants, and I don't know how he found me, and—" A wave of anger rose up at that thought. She _didn't_ know how he'd found her, seeing as that she hadn't told anyone...

But then it probably hadn't been that hard to figure out. People had seen her at the convention the day before. Maybe not a lot of people, but enough that if one of them posted on social media about it, paired with Clarke's confession about their relationship, it wouldn't take a genius to put two and two together to get four. 

That still didn't give him the right to follow her here. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She wasn't skipping out on some other commitment to be here, and sure, she'd been ignoring calls, she'd turned off her phone, but she'd done that before and he hadn't come after her like this. 

"I should get ready," Clarke said. "You want to come make sure that I don't miss anything in the shower?" Her smile was a little sly, but in her eyes Lexa could see that she was as worried as Lexa about what was happening, or going to happen. 

Putting it off wasn't going to make it any better. If Titus was angry, time wasn't going to dull that. But damn it, wasn't the whole point of this that they weren't going to let others dictate anymore how they lived their lives? That they were going to live for themselves for once, do what made them happy, because they had every right to _be_ happy? 

"You _will_ need someone to get your back," Lexa conceded, and Clarke's smirk widened into a grin, and they went into the bathroom together, closing and locking another door between themselves and the outside world. 

By the time they got out, Clarke had to scramble to get her hair dry and clothes and makeup on before Marcus was at the door again. Clarke pulled her into a hasty kiss, gripping a little harder than she maybe needed to. "Let me know how it goes," she said. "Please." 

"I will," Lexa said. She almost said, 'It will be fine,' but she wasn't in the habit of lying to Clarke and she knew that her girlfriend would see it for what it was anyway. "I love you," she said. "I'll be here when you get back."

"I love you too," Clarke said. She kissed her one more time as Marcus – at least Lexa hoped it was Marcus – knocked again, and then she was out the door and gone. 

Lexa went into the bathroom and checked her reflection, making sure that she looked okay before leaving the room to face whatever was coming. She didn't smile when she saw Titus, didn't say anything at all until she was close enough to him that she was sure that only he could hear her when she hissed, "Not here."

"Fine," he growled. "Where?"

She'd assumed she would take him back up to Clarke's room, but now that didn't seem like such a good idea. That was their safe place, for now, the bubble that insulated them, and bringing him and this energy into that space would destroy the illusion. She noticed the open door of some kind of meeting room, currently empty, and led him inside. 

"Why are you here?" she asked, before he could say anything, before he could get the upper hand. "What do you want?"

"I'm here because you disappeared," he said. "No one knew where you were."

"So?" she asked. "So what? I'm an adult. I don't need to ask permission to go somewhere for a weekend, unless I have something else already scheduled that I need to reschedule, which I didn't. I don't." She started to cross her arms, then stopped because the gesture might be seen as defensive, like she was shielding herself. She didn't need to protect herself, because she hadn't done anything wrong. 

"You turned off your phone," Titus said. "What if I needed to reach you?"

"It's been off for twelve hours," Lexa responded. "Maybe a little longer. What could have happened in that amount of time that couldn't wait?"

"What if a job came up, or an audition?"

"Then you could have left me a message, and I would have gotten back to you as soon as I checked my messages," Lexa replied, gritting her teeth against the irritation that she was barely holding at bay. "I know that things happen fast in this business, but they don't happen _that_ fast. And if something came up that couldn't wait even twenty-four hours..." She shrugged. "It wasn't meant to be."

Titus glared at her, not liking her attitude, she was sure, but she didn't care. "And then there's the matter of the rumors," he said. "In the last twenty-four hours—"

"They're not rumors," Lexa said. "If people are saying that Clarke and I are together, that we're a couple, they're not rumors." 

Titus blinked once, then again, his eyes closing a little too tightly for a little too long. Lexa could see his jaw working, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, probably forcing back the words that he really wanted to say in favor of ones that wouldn't get him in trouble. Maybe he'd realized that he was treading on thin ice. "I see," he said finally. "How long?"

 _None of your—_ Lexa stopped herself, cut the thought short before the words could form and spill out. "Since the show," she said. 

She saw Titus calculating, doing the math, realizing that this wasn't just a passing thing, a whim, and the fact that it wasn't a secret anymore might not be an accident. 

"Why?" he asked. "Why are you doing this?"

 _To me,_ were the words he wasn't saying, but Lexa heard them loud and clear. Because of course he thought it was all about him, that anything she did that wasn't in line with what he wanted, with the path he'd mapped out for her, was an act of rebellion, an attack on him personally. In his world, there was no room for even the possibility that she might do something for herself, just because she wanted it. In his world, her happiness was so far down the list as to be inconsequential.

Anger rose up in her and finally bubbled over. "I am _doing this_ ," she hissed, "because I love her. I am _doing this_ because she loves me. _We_ are doing this because we are tired of living in the cages that have been built for us, by this business, by society... by people like you." 

"Do you not realize that this will have consequences?" he asked. "You think this is what you want now, but—"

"I don't _think_!" Lexa snapped. "I _know_ this is what I want! This is – _she_ is – the one thing that I've ever allowed myself to be selfish about. Everything else..." She shook her head. "I do this job because I love it. Because I can't imagine doing anything else. I know that I'm lucky to be where I am, to have the opportunities that I do. I know that that's something that can change at any moment, because this business is fickle, and you can be in one day and out another. I know all that. And I know that you've helped me get where I am, and I will always, always be grateful to you for that." She swallowed, unclenched her fists. "But it's also why I need this. I need her. I need something – someone – who isn't... who doesn't just want me because of what I do and how well I do it. Who will love me even if I never get another acting job. Who isn't just in it for what I can do for them." 

"I'm not—" Titus started, but Lexa didn't let him finish. She didn't want to hear it, didn't want to hear him lie, maybe to himself as much as to her. 

"You think you made me," Lexa said. "You think I wouldn't be where I am without you, and maybe that's true. But the truth now is that you need me more than I need you. You helped me get here, but now that I'm here, I could find someone else to do what you do, and I would be fine. You wouldn't. You have a few others who might be poised to pick up where I left off – Aden's star could rise if he plays his cards right – but there's no guarantee. I'm your best shot, but only if you can keep me. So I caution you – be very, very careful about the next words out of your mouth."

Silence. Lexa didn't look away from his face. She watched as he kept it as blank as he could – never let them see what you're thinking, he'd always told her, unless and until you want them to – as the words he knew to be true found their target and sank deep. 

"Lexa," he said, his tone even and far gentler than it had been, trying for Concerned Elder, she assumed, a role that he'd played in her life for a long time, often to her benefit, but not always. She told herself not to fall for it this time. "I just want to make sure that you have fully considered the potential consequences to this decision, not just for yourself, but for Clarke." 

She swallowed back a growl. She should have seen it coming, that he would try to play her love for Clarke against her, knowing that Lexa would always want what was best for her. If she didn't care about the fact that coming out might impact her career, surely she would care about what it might do to Clarke's. 

"You are both working now," Titus said, "and of course we all hope that these shows will continue to run for a long time, but you're both young, and eventually you will move on, and as much as we would all like for casting decisions to be made based on talent alone, we all know that that's not how things work. It's all about perception, and if you are perceived in a certain way, if you pigeon-hole yourself into a certain kind of role—"

"Who I love has nothing to do with the kinds of roles that I can play," Lexa snapped. "Straight actors play non-straight characters, and they get awards for it. Meanwhile, non-straight actors play straight characters all the time – _all_ the time, because so few roles exist for them to do otherwise – and no one says anything about it. Maybe because they don't know, because this business is so hostile to people who are different in any way, that they don't feel safe coming out. And that's bullshit. It's absolute bullshit. If me being honest about who I am and who I love is going to cost me my career, then—" she choked on the next words, not sure she could say them, but needing to say them, too, knowing they needed to be said, "—then I accept that. Because I refuse to continue playing a role every minute of every day for the rest of my damn life." 

She brushed away his attempt to interrupt her before he managed to form a single word. "If people knowing that I'm gay means that I only get cast in those roles for the rest of my career, then that will be my legacy. Maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe people who want to cast me but feel like they shouldn't or they can't because they think for some reason that I'm not talented enough to sell a romance with anyone but another woman will change the stories, change the roles so that the romance _is_ with another woman, and they'll realize that you can tell just about any story with characters who aren't straight and make it work because their sexuality is only a part of who they are. If my life, my career can do even a tiny bit toward normalizing non-heterosexual relationships, I will count myself a success, even if I miss out on opportunities I might have otherwise had. And if that's not something that you can accept, if that's not a journey that you want to go on, I will understand, and there's the door."

Titus just stared at her for what felt like a very long time before he said, "I can see that this isn't something that you're ready to talk about—"

"There is nothing _to_ talk about," Lexa said. "I'm doing it. It's done." 

"You're emotion—"

"Don't even _think_ about finishing that sentence," Lexa warned. "This conversation is over. I've made my decision. Now you need to make yours."

* * *

**Six Weeks Later**

"Before we get started, we'd like to welcome one more guest to the stage," the moderator announced. There was confused murmuring from the audience; the panel had been advertised as being just Clarke, which had been enough to fill the room despite the fact that she'd been a last-minute addition to the convention guest line-up. It wasn't surprising, though, given the nature of the convention (which had a surprisingly strong turnout given that it was its first year, but that just proved how much of a demand, a _need_ there was for the amount and quality of LGBT+ representation in the media to be addressed) and the recent revelations about Clarke's personal life. "Ladies and... well, mostly ladies," an appreciative chuckle, "but also any gentlemen, and everyone who falls anywhere in between, please welcome to the stage Lexa Woods!"

Lexa stepped out from behind the curtain and into the lights, ears ringing from the deafening screams and applause. She'd been to conventions far, far bigger than this, but never gotten this kind of reception. She waved, feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage almost as frantically as the butterflies flapping in her stomach. Then she felt Clarke's hand around hers (more screams, more applause) and she turned to look at her, slipping into her arms easily, hugging her tight (an explosion of flashes as people caught the moment on their cameras and phones, and there was probably video running, too) and letting the contact steady her. 

They found their seats and accepted microphones, and eventually the moderator got everyone to quiet down. "Wow," Clarke said. "Thank you." She laughed, a nervous chuckle, and Lexa leaned in to press her shoulder into Clarke's gently. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong," the moderator said, "but I believe this is the first time you two have ever done a panel together."

They looked at each other, frowning slightly, trying to remember. "Is it?" Clarke asked.

"No," Lexa said, "but the only one we did before was an official media conference, not a fan convention, and there were a lot of the other women from the show there, too."

"Oh, that's right," Clarke said. "We weren't even sitting near each other."

"And it was before..." Lexa grimaced. "Before."

"Before we even knew," Clarke said. Sighed. 

The moderator was quiet for a few seconds, just letting the moment be what it was. Everyone in the room knew what they were talking about. They didn't need to say it. And Lexa knew that Clarke couldn't talk about it too much, and if she did, she had to be very careful what she said. She was still working on the show, still working with the people who had created this whole mess, sparked this... revolution, for lack of a better word, set in motion the winds of change that had blown them all here. If she said anything too overt, it could get her in trouble, cost her her job, and that wasn't what she wanted. It was a miracle that she'd been allowed to come here at all, and Lexa knew that it had taken a lot of negotiation. She hadn't been part of the conversations themselves, but there had been more than one middle-of-the-night phone call where she'd listened to Clarke vent, tried to talk her down, offer her advice. In the end Clarke had won, and she'd been able to come, and Lexa had come with her, not as an invited guest of the convention, but as Clarke's girlfriend, her support system. Her appearing on this panel had been a spur-of-the-moment thing that had been hastily worked out after her arrival.

"I have to say, I'm not sure I'm ready for this," the moderator joked. "I had some questions prepared, but that was before I knew I would have both of you." She smiled, and they smiled back. "Still, I guess that's as good a place as any to start." She glanced down at the card she held, then back at them. "Clarke, a few weeks ago at another convention, you told a group of fans that you and Lexa are in a relationship. If you don't mind my asking, what sparked that decision to... well, to come out?"

"Lexa," Clarke said. "We hadn't seen each other in six weeks, and she just showed up that day, and we decided that we were tired of hiding. That what had started out as just protecting our privacy had started to feel like keeping a secret, and we didn't want to do it anymore. We decided that it was going to come out eventually anyway, one way or another, so it was better that we did it ourselves, where we had a least a little control over the narrative, rather than become a headline one some gossip site or something."

"What has it been like since then?" the moderator asked. "For both of you?"

"Overwhelming," they said at the same time, then looked at each other and grinned. 

"We've had – or I've had – a huge outpouring of support," Lexa said. "When I meet fans, a lot of them talk about how much the role I played meant to them, to see someone like them on the screen, to have a character they could identify with, and I've gotten even more stories like that since I confirmed that that part of the character is part of me, as well."

"It's been more of a mixed bag for me," Clarke said. "There are lots and lots of people who have been absolutely amazing, who have been supportive of me and told me how brave I am and how my coming out has given them the courage to feel like they can, too, and I treasure every single one of those messages. But there has also been quite a few people who have said some really ugly things, and as much as you want to just ignore it, brush it off, tell yourself that it doesn't matter what strangers on the internet think of you... it's not that easy. Because you know that that's what's out there in the world, too."

Lexa took Clarke's hand, squeezed it, and didn't let go. They'd known it was a possibility, even an inevitability, that not everyone would just be happy for them. They'd hoped that the good would outweigh the bad and for the most part that was the case, but it didn't mean that the tiny wounds inflicted every time you read someone saying something nasty didn't add up. 

"I don't regret it, though," Clarke said. "I refuse to let them make me regret it. Living well is the best revenge, right? So I'm – we're – determined to be happy, to live our lives the way we want to live them, and if they take that as a big old 'fuck you' then," she shrugged, "that's on them."

"What about for you?" the moderator asked Lexa. "You have a little more distance from the show, but have had to deal with any negative fallout?"

Lexa sighed. "I try not to read the comments," she said. "After a little while, I stopped looking at social media. My friend Anya will look at it for me, and she tells me all of the good things. Maybe some people see that as cowardly. I don't know. I also don't care. Like Clarke said, we're determined to be happy, and to bring something positive into the world, and letting them drag me down into the dirt isn't going to get me where I want to be. So I refuse to do it." 

"Did your families know?" the moderator asked. "How did they react?"

"My mom knew," Clarke said, "and she's been supportive. Realistic about the fact that it's not going to be easy, for all kinds of reasons, but I know she's got our back."

"I'm not close with my family," Lexa said, "but my longtime manager..." She swallowed. "We ended up parting ways," she said. "We couldn't see eye-to-eye on this, and we made the decision—" She stopped. "No, _I_ made the decision that it was not something I was willing to compromise on, in any way, and since he wasn't willing to accept that, I let him go. Now I'm in the process of finding someone else who is willing to accept me for who I am and for the fact that I'm not going to just sit down and be quiet about this. Since playing that role, and the reaction it got, both her life and her death, I've realized just how important it is for people to see themselves represented, not just on the screen, but off it. If a part I played can touch so many people, give them the strength and the courage to be their truest selves... I started to feel like a hypocrite not doing the same thing myself. I realized that I can't just hide in the shadows and let everyone else fight this fight for me, because it's my fight, too."

"And our fight is not over," Clarke said. 

Lexa looked at her, gripping her hand hard, because they were in this together, maybe not forever but a girl – two girls – could dream. And meet each other there. "Our fight has just begun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, really for real done this time. This super-meta chapter brought to you mostly by Clexacon. Hope you all enjoyed!


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